You never studied the art of chance,the sudden surge of love in a stranger,the golden coin in an Edinburgh gutter.Your education controlled your heart.Would you save me as I fell from the sky?Would you bleed for me?I sense not, I sense you are cold.

So don’t come to my funeral,don’t come to my funeral.I don’t want to see you there.

Because you lied to me forever.Because you couldn’t play a tune in your poems.